The Promised Land
by Otaku Samurai
Summary: Biblically, the Land of Canaan was "the promised land" granted by God to Abraham. The first Canaan had never found her sanction, but this Canaan earned her promised land. It was wherever that trail of yellow footprints crossed, wherever that laugh flooded through the air like a poisonous disease. Her promised land was indubitably Maria Osawa.


**I originally posted this on my dA because I wasn't able to post on here. BUT HEY LOOK THE SITE IS BEING NICE TO ME NOW. It's nice to finally be legitimate, hurr hurr.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Canaan or it's characters. Here goes.**

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_Huh..._

With slight awe, she gazed curiously at the black and white face tenaciously embodying her very own. Everything about this one photo represented _something_ - either some form of emotion or subtle trace of metaphor, both in which she hadn't thought about for some long time. A nostalgic veil covered every stringy tendril of light hair, soft eyes, and those carefree pale clouds behind her back. If being in Japan wasn't enough of a foreign stimulant to her small sense of worldly cultures, that one look alone reflected in the photograph brought her back to that same day one year, thirty-three days, and fourteen-or-so hours ago. She made note to keep track of time. She would never forget, nor did she ever _want_ to.

The very look in her own eyes broke contact as she gazed at the dark-haired woman in the photograph next to her own. They were hard eyes, void of emotion yet so _full_ of emotion it almost spilled out of the brim. A small smirk played at the thin lips, and that was a smirk Canaan knew - and had _seen_ - all too well in the past and even present.

The two Canaans.

Biblically, the Land of Canaan was "the promised land" granted by God to Abraham. A holy land, a sanctified land. The first Canaan - now and forever Alphard - had never found her sanction, and perhaps now that she had her answers, maybe she was searching for it now; but _this_ Canaan - the _Despair_ Canaan - _earned_ her promised land, and this holy place was wherever that little antenna of strawberry blonde hair cast a shadow on the ground. It was wherever that trail of yellow footprints crossed, wherever that laugh flooded through the air like a poisonous disease. Her promised land was indubitably Maria Osawa.

The mercenary's eyebrows quirked up slightly as her eyes recited the outline of Alphard's head.

Apart from never forgetting the day the Factory was destroyed, Canaan never forgot the day Maria left with Mino back to Japan. One year, thirty-seven days, and seven-or-so hours ago was when she watched their plane through her rifle scope with a grin. Technically, anywhere Canaan _wasn't_ was where her best friend was safe from harm - especially the gory violence that followed the mercenary's semi-automatic pistol. Wherever Maria was situated, and right now that was Japan, she knew where to locate this fabled "promised land". But, almost like Adam's murdering son Cain, she was a biblical outcast. She could walk around the perimeter, but never cross that line into freedom. Canaan couldn't tread her earning because that would defeat the purpose of her personal goal and the very principles she was determined to keep. Maria needed to stay safe - Maria needed to stay away from her.

All-in-all, Canaan just couldn't protected her by not protecting her at all, and plainly, it was arbitrary, confusing, contradictory, and _stupid_. Yet, it made a lot of _damn sense_. Mentally shrugging, Canaan continued staring at Alphard's smug face.

That didn't mean that she didn't miss her best friend dearly. She sincerely missed those skeptical expressions of Mino, and even bothersome Yunyun who was only God knows where.

_Probably sticking food down her shirt due to lack of breasts._

Canaan smiled a little. She cherished every memory, every interaction with those lively three, but a mercenary job was indeed still a _job_ and she couldn't have her friends in constant danger. Hell, it was more of a lifestyle than a job, because when her friends left she fell back into the same old routine - shoot, kill, destroy, and sleep. Part of her still regretted not saying goodbye to Maria when she left Shanghai, but with some situations, Canaan just couldn't help it. Without a doubt, she knew that she'd see the strawberry-blonde again, and if not, well...

Maria would always stay her light, in life or _death_.

Trailing her light eyes away from Alphard, Canaan walked down the gallery to view Maria's other pictures. She'd admit that the photo of her "posing" was an awkward sight, but she was surprised at how fluid Maria's pictures were when conveying emotion and action. Though the girl was just a novice at the time the portraits were captured, it seemed that her work was natural, and almost even second nature. Despite it only being a little over a year since her first exhibition, her gallery already had acquired a fan-base. As the mercenary pondered at the photos, she figured that a mental vacation was in order; she'd let herself indulge, contemplate, if only for the moment. Canaan stared at herself. It was odd seeing her own body in action, despite looking at a single shot - was this how others viewed her? Not that the mercenary found herself awkwardly out of place or insecure, but it was obviously notable that she was _different_. Something in her demeanor screamed out that she wasn't meant for the confines of everyday comfort - just running, jumping, punching, and aiming. Even the most unbiased person could probably notice the invisible blood on her hands, and how the angel of death was always hovering over Canaan's back, despite where she went. To the average eye, she really was a sight to behold.

Sighing contemplatively, her hand fell down into her jacket pocket and caressed the cold metal of her Beretta Px4 Type G handgun. When Maria was gone, this gun was her only familiarity to the life lost, and the life now lead. Completely lost in thought, Canaan blinked once, then nibbled curiously on her bottom lip.

There had been one central lead that Alphard was now engaged with terrorist activity there in Japan. However, there weren't many details regarding the magnitude of her activity and the extent of attack. Canaan figured that it was merely a cold trail; the terrorist attack a year before with the national conference in regards to the Ua virus was still a worldwide headline. Alphard was too smart to repeat a job in so close a time space, but nothing was impossible. The lead stated that she was preparing for an attack on the Japanese government for only God knows what, but the idea that she had a target in Maria's home country had immediately put Canaan on edge; Alphard wasn't that stupid to attack Japan, unless she had a certain death wish.

The light-haired girl closed her eyes in reflection.

The work of a mercenary was still a job, and those who held jobs were granted vacations at some point, yes? A mental indulgence was not enough. Right there and now, Canaan decided to have a little "vacation" in Japan. Even without her synesthesia, she could feel that the yellow light of Maria was alive and well, even as she was over seas. When it came down to her light, her _hope_, she trusted her heart almost as vitally as her synesthetic eyes. The safe yellow warmth was everywhere in the gallery, and as she looked back at her own black and white portrait, she could see Maria's yellow fingerprints on the Despair Canaan's face. Knowingly, she chuckled lightly. And, with a small grin, the mercenary girl dug her other hand into her jacket pocket, finally turning to leave.

Just a few blocks away from the original exhibition, Maria's photos were transferred a week after her open house to her own permanent gallery. Her _Canaan_ series really was a hit with the masses, especially with her portrayals of this odd Middle Eastern girl in everyday Shanghai life. It really was a proud moment for Canaan, and despite never experiencing the feelings of fame, the mercenary certainly did feel famous for her "work" as the primary subject. Everyday since she arrived in Japan, Canaan made it a habit to walk to the gallery when the visitation was slow; she didn't want to make a scene. But, with her hair tied back with the red string, her jacket on and gun hidden, no one noticed that the Canaan of Maria's photo series was present, standing right there in front of them. The mercenary made constant note that the portraits were so captivating that others were put in a trance at instant glance - thus was the power of Maria's camera.

Canaan's eyebrows knitted together.

_No, Maria's skills._

The camera was merely a tool, and how Maria utilized the tool was what mattered regarding the end-product. It was the same case as Canaan's synesthetic eyes.

Within a few more seconds of standing there, the mercenary figured that it was time to depart. There were a handful of hotspots where Alphard could be situated around the city, and Canaan needed to make her rounds. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that the lead was complete bullshit, but this job was what brought bread on the table.

_Well, more like "bullets on the table," but whatever._

With a slight chuckle at her fail-of-a-joke, Canaan moseyed on towards the doorway.

However, something caught Canaan's eye before she moseyed through the exit. She didn't pay much mind to it the previous times she visited the gallery, but for some odd reason the checkout desk captured her attention. Small rectangular business cards were stacked at the surface, each with Maria's name, professional phone and fax number. At the top left corner of each card was a picture of the both of them; it was the photo Maria took when they were running from the "stupid people" during the festival in Shanghai. The mercenary girl had signaled the "peace sign" towards the camera lens with a small smile when they both ran with hands held - a chummy grin was planted on Maria's face.

That picture was a distant memory of when life was at the eve of becoming blown into such proportions; it was that carefree moment before their lives changed completely after that.

She didn't know why she didn't notice these business cards before, and perhaps they were new additions, but that couldn't be right - this place had been up and running for a year already. Perhaps the gallery was just out of cards and replenished them just that day, but what really caught her eye was how there was a yellow glow hovering over the stack. Maria's fingerprints were _everywhere_. Twisting around to face the gallery for the last time that day, Canaan's eyes morphed into red, and her synesthesia set in. Yellow floated in and out of the room; each portrait held faint traces of sunshine on them, like airy pollen on a flower. A little pang of emotion shot though the mercenary's chest. _Of course_ she missed Maria, of _course_ she did. She could feel her omniscient presence in this room - the girl was _everywhere_. But, Canaan couldn't relax unless she dug up more about Alphard, despite her doubt. In the back of her mind, Canaan truly hoped that it was a cold lead. She had been searching for Alphard most of the whole year, and it was now an anxiety, especially since she was in Japan. But then, maybe she could actually get to see Maria because of it.

The mere thought of seeing her best friend again melted her heart and then burned her chest, but Canaan clenched her jaw in frustration. They were from two different worlds, and they both knew that. Though their fates were ironically intertwined, Canaan knew that if she were to stay with Maria, the camera-girl's life would inevitably fall to hopeless pieces. All the work that she put in to get where she was now, and all the sacrifices Maria made for her photography would get ruined - all because there was a constant target on Canaan's head; one in which, the mercenary couldn't shake off no matter how hard she tried.

Normally, Canaan tried to push these despondent thoughts out of her mind, because clouded judgement meant clouded aim. When she was angry, her gun held a certain fire. When she was sad, well...

...things really fell off the deep end. Good thing those situations were sparse, slim-to-none.

_Maybe medium sized-to-none._

She mentally slapped herself. In no way did she consider herself funny, but her thoughts really were her worst enemy. Plainly because they betrayed her all of the damn time. _Go see her! You want to!_, that little Canaan voice would chant out, _No! I can't, it's not good for her!_, it would reply back desperately. During those times when she was trapped within her mental wars, she would resort to jumping off the nearest building to feel the air rush through her short hair. Just to _relax_. Maybe she needed a massage or something, but she didn't really trust anybody except that small few to touch her with he back turned.

Looking back thoughtfully at the business cards, Canaan impulsively grabbed one. Almost immediately, she fell victim to the sensory overload. She felt the weight of the thick paper, dissected the dimensions, smelled the dried ink, and stared at the two girls in the photo. At the carefree sight of her and Maria, the mercenary cracked a smile. When she found that the "one armed female terrorist" lead was at a standstill, or better off _dead_, she'd visit her friend. She owed Maria that, if anything. She really did love that Osawa girl.

Canaan flipped the card over nimbly in her fingers, and a small black line of print caught her eyes which caused her to smile even more.

_"I believe that there are many things in this world that no one has seen yet."_

She stepped out into the sun of downtown Tokyo, card in hand. That was such a profound, open-minded statement.

It made her feel lighter than air.

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**As said on my dA, I have no clue where I'm going with this. I'm sure they'll both meet up eventually :P Please review! Would be greatly appreciated! This is my first Canaan fic, so go easy on me :D**


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